What does that $13 movie ticket actually get you?
By Daryn Wright
Photos by Vaikunthe Banerjee
Walking into the Pacific Cinematheque theatre, it’s clear the people attending this film are of a different sort than those filling the lobby of large, chain theatres.
We are all here to see Sunset Boulevard, a film by Billy Wilder and Charles Brackett. The film made its debut in 1950 and has since stunned audiences with its macabre and hilarious plot and cast of characters.
I won’t go on about the film much more — after all, this isn’t the arts section, and you should go see it for yourself — but what I do want to go on about the difference between independent, local theatres, and the ones reeling off blockbuster hits on giant-sized screens.
Pacific Cinematheque is one of Vancouver’s last vestiges of independent theatre, a place where you can expect to see a combination of film noir, Japanese horror, and the entire ouvre of Jean-Luc Godard. The theatre is tiny, with only one screen and a respectable amount of small, red-cushioned seats. The concession offers the necessary popcorn, sans faux butter, done home-style, which I appreciate, and a few select choices of rich chocolate bars or saran-wrapped toffee bars.
It’s simple: no flashy menu boards or endlessly rotating trays of nachos. Posters of the classics line the walls: Hitchcock’s profile, Hayao Miyazaki’s illustrations. These details give you an idea what kind of theatre the Cinematheque is. These people really care about films.
Not too long ago, I tried to see a film at a large chain theatre in downtown Vancouver, which I will leave unnamed. The movie was Cloud Atlas, and it was, regrettably, only being shown in one of the larger, special theatres that require a seating reservation in advance.
My friends and I had planned to meet at the movies and stuff our faces with our favourite movie goodies (sour bubble-gum flavoured bottles and cherry bon bons, please and thank you), but this was rendered impossible by this new feature. The tickets would all have had to be bought by the same person, far in advance, in order for us to even be able to sit together.
I felt robbed of the movie-going experience I remember having as a child and adolescent — which, relatively speaking, was not that long ago. Isn’t this what going to the movies was supposed to be about? Isn’t the whole appeal the ability to meet with friends out in the social world rather than remain holed up alone in a dark basement suite? Isn’t it an excuse to chuckle jovially with friends at Keanu Reeve’s terrible and inconsistent British accent? (My example is dated, but I think you all know what I’m talking about.) But oh, right, I forgot that most people would rather have as little social contact as possible, preferring to be plugged in at all times. But I digress.
What I love about the Cinematheque, and most other independent theatres in general (I’ll include the ill-fated Fifth Avenue Cinemas, which has recently been acquired by Cineplex), is that this social experience has been maintained, despite the changes taking place in larger theatres. You can meet up with friends beforehand without making advance seating reservations, and the theatres actually care about this experience. They also care about films, and this is perhaps most important of all. This is why I won’t be going to a large chain movie theatre any time soon. Give me Cinematheque or give me death.
